20th Century Fox
by JezzicaSteal
Summary: Three Marilyns. Three DiMaggios. One chance of a lifetime. The music and drama of Smash, set on the big Broad-way, and the antics and relationships of your favorite Glee characters. A comical, lovable look at fame and its cost. And many loves along the way, but in a world where some would do anything to be a star, can you ever give all the heart? *LGBT themes.
1. Chapter 1

Part One:

The Lights, The Nights, and the Cash

"You know, I came over here to talk," Jesse said, shifting to sit up on the queen bed and letting the sheets fall so his chest was exposed; naturally hairless, with it's young, creamy muscles slightly obscured from too much New York City Chinese food in the wake of high school.

Jade Adams was buttoning her blouse at the foot of the bed. "Good talk."

The smell of sex was muted by low-burning, apple pie scented candles. Her favorite, which Jesse always promised himself he wasn't going to light. Yet there they were, on the nightstand, on the dresser, in a little part of his soul with the past and the music and her. In only the blue blouse and the white panties, she skipped around the bed to sit next to him, and kissed him softly.

"What did you want to talk about?"

"I... wanted to talk to you about this new project I'm working on."

Jade rolled her eyes. She puffed quickly and extinguished the green candle on the nightstand. "You have until I get my pants on. Go."

"Hey, hear me out-." He caught her hand to keep her on the bed with him. She tugged away and started pulling her pants on anyway. "The stars are aligning on this one, I'm telling you. We've got Sue Sylvester producing, she believes in the project, she's just throwing money at it. I'm slated to direct, and we've got Schuester and Pillsbury writing the music and book, I know you love their work."

Jade buttoned her jeans, but shot a sideways look at him. "I do. But you know how I feel about us working together again. It's a publicity thing, I feel cheap. Like the only reason anybody wants me is for _us_."

"This show is going to be so amazing, nobody could say it's only popular because of us. And we're not a thing, I get that, we'll keep things professional."

"I have been looking for something new. What's the show about?"

"Marilyn Monroe."

Jade turned. "Really? A musical about Marilyn? That's brilliant, how hasn't there been one already?"

"Right? I know she's your hero. I wouldn't have anyone else playing her."

"Well you can't just give me the role," she chuckled, going to sit by him on the bed again.

"I think you're a shoe in. The girls who sleep with the director usually are."

Jade slid along his body, positioning one leg on either side of him so her center was pressed down on his hips, saying with a faint grin, "Well you've got yourself a Marilyn."

"There is... one other thing. Schuester's got a friend from his last show that he thinks should be Marilyn. We're bringing her in to audition as well. But really, who could compete with you?"

She pressed her lips together tightly, fighting the grimace. A girl from Schuester and Pillsbury's last show, who could be Marilyn? She had a bad feeling she knew exactly the one they meant, and it gave her stomach pains. "Who indeed."

Rachel Berry finished applying cherry-red lipstick, and pursed her lips, blowing a kiss to Marilyn, looking back at her in the mirror. She played with blonde curls on her wig, the skin of her face painted white with every makeup trick she could find.

_Ethereal, _she thought, puffing her chest out and practicing her breathy sigh. _Luminous._

"Ha-ppy birthday," she breathed, "To _you_. Happy birth-day... to... you."

The door opened and she started, as if she'd been doing something wrong. It was only her husband, though, setting bags of groceries down on the kitchen island and starting towards her. When their gazes met, he froze.

"I look ridiculous, don't I?" she whispered, ever insecure.

Finn moved over to her and took her in his arms. "No, no. You look beautiful." He looked at all the white powder and foundation. "But are you playing Marilyn's ghost?"

She smiled her usual smile for him. "I have to be perfect. I have to look the part, and my skin tone is too dark to look like Marilyn without a little help."

"It doesn't matter what you look like. What matter's is that you've got her essence. Her soul. A girl from a small town, who always knew she was meant to be a star. And I'm the lucky guy who doesn't deserve her, but somehow tricked her into marrying me."

"That's why you should go to the casting call for DiMaggio." She wrapped her arms around him in turn. "If we both got the parts, we could be a husband and wife team on Broadway, with real-life chemistry that could translate on stage and we could work together every day."

Finn kissed her on the nose. "I really don't think I'm what Broadway is looking for. Now or ever."

"Well... you did just get laid off," she said gently. "If we both auditioned, there's a good chance at least one of us would get a part, and it would be steady income for a while."

He hardly thought of being a star like her, or wanted to shine up on stage, or could dance at all, but her smile was so precious to him that he found himself saying, "I guess I could go-."

She shrieked happily and jumped to get her arms around his neck, hugging him. He held her up and spun her tiny body around.

Seeing Jade approaching the theater building from the opposite direction, Rachel sped up, heading in at a jog and just barely getting in first. Jade rolled her eyes at the short little girl and headed toward the elevator with dignity, getting there in time though Rachel was frantically pushing the button to close the doors. She huffed silently as they began to ascend.

"Hello Rachel. Will I be beating you today for the role of Marilyn?"

Rachel flashed a brilliant smile. She'd decided not to paint her face, going with the natural tan that made her teeth all the more brilliantly white. "You're so confident, Jade. I really admire that. Especially for someone who's last show did so terribly."

"That production was _awful_, wasn't it? And yet I still garnered a Tony nomination for supporting actress. Says a lot to the people who'll be deciding Marilyn, doesn't it?"

"Too bad you didn't win. I thought you really should have." She was still smiling sweetly.

"Yeah. It would've looked nice next to my Grammy."

The elevator dinged, at the very top floor where auditions were being held. Stepping into the white hallway, they walked briskly.

"Right. A Grammy from your rock and roll days with Jesse St. James. Do you really think your voice can translate to Broadway the same way Jesse's skills have?"

"There's no voice like mine. Anywhere. We'll just have to let them decide. Say, where's your husband? Shouldn't he be here, being a lap dog?"

"He's meeting me, and he's auditioning for DiMaggio."

Jade held the door open for Rachel, trying not to let herself be shaken. She tried to project confidence, but inside she was insecure. In their teen years, she and Jesse had been each other's escape from troubled lives. They'd made it out of their small towns and into the spotlight with their band Yellow Eye, and their debut album _Curly Wigs and Secret Dreams. _The sound, unique for the modern time, reflected all of their greatest musical idols; Tom Petty, The Runaways, and Jade's unrequited love: Matchbox Twenty. The album had garnered three nominations including album of the year and song of the year for their number one, worldwide hit, '_The Lion I Used to Be'. _The Grammy they had won was for Best Rock Album. But when the relationship fell apart, so did the band. Jesse had wanted to go solo, getting back to the acoustic, folksy roots he had only pretended to have and accidentally fallen in love with, and Jade wanted to pursue her first love: theater. How exactly Jesse had ended up the most sought after director on Broadway was something she realized suddenly she did not know. Natural talent, natural leadership. Maybe he'd followed her to Broadway because a first love was a lasting love.

Walking into the room outside the studio for rehearsals and auditions for _Bombshell_, Finn rushed to hug and kiss his wife. Sitting in chairs lined up outside the door were two other men; one with geometric features and short, black hair, the other a rounder face and blond locks. He beamed at Jade from behind full, perfect lips.

"Oh my God, it's Jade Adams."

He stood and bowed, falling down at her feet. She smiled. "Whoa."

"My Lady. I am Sam Evans, and I am your humble servant."

"Hello Sam. You may rise."

He stood and shook her hand eagerly. "I'm such a big fan. I heard Jesse's directing this show. You're probably a shoe-in. I'd love to work with you so much."

"Here's hoping," she returned. "What's the hold up? Is someone in auditioning?"

He looked at the closed doors. "No. Some professional looking guy strutted in and we've been waiting ever since."

The doors to the room opened in a grand, sweeping movement, and Jesse walked through, followed by curly-headed Will Schuester and Emma Pillsbury, who took small steps due to the tightness of her skirt.

"Um, Mr. St. James, we really should discuss this. The chorus hasn't had nearly enough practice. Rushing into a performance could be the kiss of death."

"We have no choice, Emma, and please call me Jesse. Good. You're both here." He looked between Jade and Rachel.

The shorter jumped to stand and rushed forward. "Hello Mr. St. James, it's a pleasure to meet you."

"Right. Rachel Berry, Jade Adams. Thank you both for coming."

"We have a bit of a problem," Will said. "And we have a need for a temporary Marilyn."

"I prepared the only piece you gave me for my audition," Rachel said, "_Let Me Be Your Star_."

"As did I."

Emma said, "Well, it seems that won't do. You see, we have a possible contributor to the show here today, unexpectedly."

"We need to put on a show for him, and we need a lead."

Jesse added, "We're not willing to cast anyone finally, this early into the process, but there may not be a show without this funding."

Jade said, "I thought you had all the funding you needed, with Mrs. Sylvester behind you."

"Mrs. Sylvester is well on her way to becoming a _Ms._ Her assets are frozen until the divorce is finalized."

"I'll do it."

"So will I."

"Easy now," he warned, then addressed the writers, Will and Emma. "Rachel has been in a few shows. We know she has a great stage presence. She's professional and her voice is the epitome of traditional Broadway. Jade's a Grammy-winning artist with the voice of a generation. I know from personal experience she can perform under pressure, for a crowd. What training in dance do each of you have?"

"Ballet and Jazz-tap," Rachel said.

Jade answered a little less confidently, "Contemporary and a little ballet."

"Great. What number have the dancers practiced most?"

Will and Emma exchanged a glance. There was a wordless exchange. He answered, "The ladies have got _Smash._"

"Perfect. You can both sing it. Will, take the ladies to learn the number, you've got ten minutes. Emma, with me. Come bat your eyes for Mr. Chang."

"That's offensive," she murmured, but her doe eyes blinked a little faster.

"How is it offensive? I'm calling you pretty."

"As far as I'm concerned, this is your audition," Will said, all business. "Good luck." He added softly to Rachel, "Make me proud."

They were positioned in the prop furniture, an office setup, with three other women in their yoga pants and leg warmers. Jade was shaking slightly. The first show she ever auditioned for, before she and Jesse had ever been even looked at by a record company, she'd lost the part to Rachel. It was making nerves come up that she hadn't felt since she was fourteen. At fifteen, she'd taken her first national show choir championship with Jesse by her side.

When the group came back into the studio room, with its hard wood floors and open windows letting in squares of light, she kept her eyes locked on him. He shot her a smile, then mouthed the words, 'You've got this.'

The music started, a demo recording of what Will had written, and the girls bounced with each beat. Two were on either side of the couch, bent at ninety degree angles, and they bumped their hips to the beat. The stand-in for the not yet cast Zanuck, one of the male chorus members named Blaine, was standing to one side with Rachel center-stage.

She started to say, "You ask me how far will I go? You ask me what I wouldn't do... for the sight of my name, as it fills every frame. Yes, I wanna be more than a _flash_-." She twisted a hand and did a dip.

Jade pulled Blaine away from Rachel, turning him toward her and likewise caressing his chest. "I ask you what I should've done. I tell you I'm willing to learn-." She moved him to sit in the spinning office chair, and climbed into his lap to straddle him. "-So enroll me in school, in your kid-ney shaped pool-." She set her hands on his shoulders and dropped back, letting brown hair fall back. "In a two piece I make quite a-." She pulled herself back up and pressed their chests together, saying languidly, "_Splash_. Cause I wanna be your... smash."

She stood and moved to one side, while Rachel moved to the other. The other girls were lined up, and they all sang, "Yes I wanna be your... hit and run! 'Til I've won every heart!"

Rachel said, her voice breathy but still strong and classical, "Be a queen to each king, or mechanic."

Everyone whispered, "Plus you Mr. Zanuck. But first, Mr, you have to give-me-the-part-!"

They spun Zanuck around in his chair and he stood, sitting down on the couch. Jade went around the back, while Rachel and the others crowded around on their knees in front of him. She rubbed his shoulders.

"I know all the tricks of the trade. I've even invented a few."

"Now your interest is mounting," Rachel chirped, rubbing his thigh.

Jade folded herself over the couch and landed, laying, in Blaine's lap. Her voice was raspy, bluesy power, not tailored or elegant compared to Rachel's, but she hit every note. "And soon we'll be counting: The lights-."

"And the nights-."

"And the-," they all gasped, then called, "Cash! Cause I'm gonna be your smash! Yes, I'm gonna be your smash! Won't you help me be your-."

Jade rolled and they all stood, in formation, with their hands on their hips, and bopped to the three, distinct beats. When the chorus sang, they were together, but Rachel's voice naturally jumped to the front with volume. Jade's voice rose to a beautiful scream, which she pulled from the tips of her toes and the bottom of her rock and roll roots. "_SMASH-!"_

Rachel stole a glance at her when the note ended and they all held their poses. A glare colored her pretty face. The scream was definitely off book, and she hoped it wasn't too much. Jesse was smiling. Mr. Chang, who'd been watching silently, stood and started clapping.

"Wow!" He laughed. "You've got your funding. I'd like to double my offer! That was phenomenal. But tell me: which of these beautiful ladies is our star?"

"We haven't cast Marilyn yet," Jesse said, "But you can see we have a plethora of talent to choose from. Thank you so much for your support."

The men exchanged a firm handshake. When Mr. Chang was on his way out, he approached Jade. "I'm a big fan by the way. My wife has the Dave Matthews Band fire dancer on one butt cheek and the lion in the powdered wig from your album on the other."

"Thank you, that's very flattering. Few people know, Jesse actually drew that himself. We liked it so we just made it the album cover."

"Amazing. Great meeting you."

Jesse walked him out, and the air instantly brightened, tension melting away to pats on the back and congratulations. Emma jumped into Will's arms and he squeezed her tightly.

Jade asked, no one in particular, "Are they married?"

To her surprise, Rachel answered, murmuring the gossip with a pretty smile on her face. "No. Will is married to someone else. They've just worked together for most of their lives, and they're best friends and she's madly in love with him and he's too stupid to see it."

"I thought he was your friend."

"He is, but really, it's obvious. He and his pretty, young wife are separated at the moment, though. If little Miss Pillsbury were brave enough to make her move, he'd be hers for the taking. But that's a big if."

"You know, you're kind of a bitch," Jade said, not looking over. "But that's a good thing. Now I won't have to feel guilty when I smoke you for Marilyn."

She practically laughed her response. "Are you kidding me? I just smoked you like a Cuban cigar. My performance was flawless and _in character. _You throwing your little scream in at the end deviated from the harmonizing, and probably lost you the part."

"I'm not going to argue with you."

"Too bad, I was having fun."


	2. Chapter 2

Part Two:

Make That Rhythm Fiery

At Jesse's behest, both girls sat in on the auditions for DiMaggio. Sam auditioned with an easy grin and natural confidence. Noah Puckerman, the handsome dark haired man went next; he was professional and calm. Then Rachel's husband, the unassumingly cute Finn Hudson, sang with a nervous vibrato; slightly pitchy, but a certain honesty that Jade admired. He wasn't putting on a front, like everyone else in show business including her. Because of the way she could rise up into the top of the audible spectrum, and the natural sort of inner-city blues grime that coated the rest of her voice, people called her things like 'Female Steve Perry', or 'New Janis' or said that while being only slightly more feminine than Steven Tyler, she could certainly wail like him. Her voice was rock, her face was pretty, and she was a cherished songwriter in several genres. But she could still nearly talk herself out of going for the role of a lifetime, just from her insecurities.

There was a lot of handshaking as the group of them all headed for the elevator. A job well done. Good auditions all around. Jesse and the team promised casting announcements in a week; two at the most, and invited both of the actresses to join in the chorus and participate in rehearsals. Everybody slid into the elevator. It was a bit of a crowd.

"Who's up for drinks? Huh?" Will asked.

A few groans and complaints came from the more straight-laced; Emma, Rachel, Puck, even Jesse. Jade knew that he didn't like to mix business with pleasure unless she was involved. Though he often partook in those pleasures during personal time. He could drink the expensive stuff, smoke a nice cigar on occasion, and more than a few beautiful women had been rocked by the rock star in him. Cocaine had been their escape of choice for a few months on tour in Europe.

She hadn't touched the stuff in years. It made her feel less in control of the music.

"I'll go if the big shot director pays," Finn said.

"Hoo-rah!" called Sam excitedly.

Jesse waited for a moment of silence, then his steely blue eyes turned on Jade. "Will you be there?"

It would have passed by the gazes of the others as an offer for a friend. He sounded casually enough. Jade wondered why he hadn't ever taken to the stage. But she heard an extra something. It occurred to her that he was still in love with her, and for some reason it was surprising.

_Would they make another go of it?_

She supposed. Such was the pattern. "Sure."

Rachel noticed the exchange.

The whole group started for the nearest bar, dragging the hesitant ones along with them. A few minutes walking, and Jade stopped, swearing under her breath. Jesse alone noticed and ran back to her.

"What is it?"

"I forgot my coat, back at the studio building."

"Well just take mine-," he was already stripping off his black, soft jacket with the expensive lining and the fancy buttons. "-You can get it tomorrow."

"No, I need it. My keys, my ID, some scribbled song lyrics I was working on... Plus this coat's really not my style." She nodded to the one he offered. "You're too fashionable for a straight man, you know that?"

"Yeah, yeah. Forgive me for enjoying the occasional scarf. Come on, I'll take you back."

"You don't have to. You're wanted at the bar. Just give me the key."

He debated only a second before pulling the key ring out and removing one. The air was cold, for spring, and she had to unwrap her arms from around herself to accept it. "I'm really not supposed to let anyone in. This stuff top secret."

"I promise I won't steal the sheet music. But I'll definitely snoop around a little."

"Be my guest. You'll be singing all those songs soon, anyways."

"Not if Schuester gets his way."

"Rachel's got Schuester, all right. But you've got me. You should work on trying to convince Emma. She's pretty straight-laced, but she has a bit of a wild side."

"And you know that from personal, candle-lit experience, I'm guessing?"

He did his usual laugh-sigh, letting his head fall back and stepping closer to wrap his arms around her waist. "Come on, don't be like that. Assuming I'm some kind of trollop."

"Don't assume I'm a fool, then. Those candles get burned down between my visits. It's not conjecture, it's fact."

"That doesn't mean Emma was in my bed."

"Was she, though?" She was older, but she was beautiful. Cold jealousy filled Jade. She wasn't a saint, but when she was sleeping with someone -and it wasn't always love- she was only sleeping with them.

He sighed. "Go get your coat."

"Mm-hm."

"Irish bar, a block that way."

"I'll meet you there in ten... fifteen minutes."

"Jade-." Jesse caught her hand as she tried to turn away, and lifted both hands. His finger tips were soft, skimming along the hairline, at the smooth skin of her temples, and brushed the hair back over her ears.

She had always thought Jesse was too into the theatrics of kissing, but when lips came to lips, none of it mattered. He kissed her slowly. Jade liked kissing him. Until a camera flashed from someone's phone on the street nearby, and she jerked away.

"That'll make news."

"Yeah. I'll see you."

She turned and went back to the rehearsal building. Taking the elevator up to the top floor, she stepped out and grabbed her coat. It had fallen down between one of the chairs and the wall. Heading back, she realized there was a light on in the large, wooden-floored studio room. The door was partially left open. She stepped up, peaking through. _A break in? No. Someone has their own key._

She reached into her pocket for her phone, thinking to call Jesse, then saw the woman inside and stopped. She was short-haired, the blonde locks flipped out around her chin and streaked with a little dirty brown color, her curves small but happy shapes in the mature, flowered dress she wore. And her features were sharp, with big, hazel eyes.

"Pretty," Jade whispered. Her mind was blank, reverting to some childlike state of wonder because the girl was the most beautiful damn thing she'd ever seen. Who else had keys to the place? She had to be a member of the creative team. Jesse had told her Schuester's pretty, young wife was a historian. A Marilyn expert signed onto the project long before their separation who was authenticating the show. He'd warned her that things might be awkward. She was the only one unaccounted for; so the pretty girl with the hazel eyes had to be her. Quinn Schuester.

And Quinn had papers spread out on the tables along the back, mirrored wall. All the blinds were open on the floor-to-ceiling windows along the front. Every few seconds she would get distracted and look out over the bright lights and buildings. She'd brush the hair back out of her eyes with perfect, natural fingernails. No polish, hardly any makeup, if any.

Jade felt a voyeuristic thrill, watching. Her eyes took in every detail of Quinn, who was the same age; maybe a year or two younger than she was at twenty-five. Schuester was a bit of a cradle-robber, it seemed. Quinn stole a glance at the speakers of the sound system, to one side of the tables. She smiled a smile that made her lips purse together, losing some of their curves, then she shook her head, dismissing the thought. But her eyes darted back to it a second later. Then she skipped over, her arms bouncing a little.

When she started the music, she quickly pranced to the front of the table, in the middle of the room. It was the crude sound recording for one of the Marilyn numbers. Jade could tell from the first word Quinn sang.

"At Paramount it's ooh-la-la."

The music played and she played with her hair, shaking her hips back and forth to it.

"The Warner Brother's cha-cha-cha."

She put her hands on her hips, sticking her elbows out, then onto her head, then turned in a small circle.

_Oh, Pretty Thing,_ Jade swooned. _Marry me, Pretty Thing._

"And L.B. Mayer loves his schmaltz so MGM made the great waltz-." Her voice was fluffy; feathery and a little nasal but that only made it more perfect. "But the Twentieth Century foxtrot... it's precious, but precious... it's not hot! To make the big boys hire me-," she held the note, and didn't have much for vibrato but _damn_, "-please make that rhythm fiery-."

Jade grew a little bolder, opening the door a little more as Quinn's back was to her. The girl said plainly, "Come on, boys and girls. Make me over."

Suddenly Jade saw things the way she imagined Jesse did. A vision with lights and dancers; how the show could be and Quinn had blonde curls and red lips. The naturally white skin was already there, blushing like life in spring.

"In this factory where dreams can come true, are you ready to make someone new? You're the team that must teach me to do-! The Twentieth Century Fox- mambo."

The dancers, paired off male and female, spun around her with their dresses billowing into perfect circles. "Done the homework and I'll pass the test. I'll do whatever my teacher suggests." She winked with a decisive beat from the music, to the man who approached to take her hand. "I can do it _clothed_ or _undressed_-." The sound of her high-pitched groan at the end of the word sent shivers through Jade, then with a slight hitch of a laugh Quinn added, "The Twentieth Cen-tury Fox- mambo."

The female dancers flocked around her, and jumped, shaking their chests, then spinning as she said, "Make it up! Shake it up! Make the fantasies begin. Here's the dope: To get cast? Change the past. Make the life just right for cinema-scope. Take a gamble cause it's safe to bet, Mr. Zanuck ain't seen nothin' yet! When we're finished he'll never forget this Twentieth Century Fox!"

"Ah! Ah, Ah!" The chorus called, hitting their points and turns with flashes of the red lighting and beats in the music. "For fame-. Play the game. Change your name. To the Twentieth Century Fox."

"Make it up! Shake it up!" Quinn sang again, with them. "Make me feel like the main attraction! Change the clothes! Fix the nose! And then five, six, seven, eight, _action!" _she called, and the high-pitched squeak of it was perfection. "Now I'm blonde, but I ain't so dumb. Hollywood will be under my thumb. I'll change partners until I become-! The Twentieth Century Fox! Mambo-!"

Jade was all the way inside the room, and sagged against the door as Quinn threw her hands in the air as if to say, 'Look at me!' It was so perfectly _Marilyn _that she almost couldn't stand it, and absentmindedly whistled.

Quinn spun, and her eyes weren't wide or terrified but anxious. "Who are you? -Oh." It was obvious she recognized the other woman. "Well, what are you doing here?"

"Your speaking voice is just as pretty as your singing voice."

Her feathers got ruffled. "You shouldn't sneak around watching people like that."

"You're Quinn Schuester, right?"

"Quinn Fabray is what I'm going by, these days. It's my maiden name."

"That's beautiful. Your name is as pretty as you are."

"Would you stop that, please?" she murmured. "Stop comparing different parts of me and stop complimenting me."

Jade saw right then there were two different parts of her. The part that could let go, dance and sing when no one was watching; and the person she always tried hard to be, so straight-laced and mature. She was a little disappointed. Walls weren't something she liked in a person.

"So that was one of the numbers for the show? I'm auditioning for the lead, I'm J-."

"I know who you are, Miss Adams. If you don't mind, I'm trying to work."

"Why are you trying to work here, so late at night?"

"Because my husband gets this place during the day, that was the custody arrangement we made, now, if you'd please?"

Jade smiled. "You're clever. So you're a historian? What do you do besides authenticate?"

"I check for speech patterns in Marilyn's dialogue, I've provided info and references, many of which have been factored into the story and lyrics. When the time comes I'll work with whoever they cast to play her. Coach her on how to become Norma Jean and then Marilyn Monroe."

"You're a big fan of hers?"

"She was _wonderful_." The way she lingered on the word showed worship.

"I love her, too," Jade whispered, looking at Quinn with understanding. "Lots of women do, I guess, but when Jesse told me about this show I... I knew I didn't want anyone else to play her. But seeing you do that... well, maybe you should consider being more than a consultant."

"You think-?" she was too eager for a moment, and it was obvious she mentally chastised herself. "No. That's not possible. I'm not an actress or a singer."

"Could've fooled me. You look more like her than me, and you certainly look more like her than Rachel. I'd even say you sound more like her. You really should consider it."

Quinn looked at her like she was crazy. She half-laughed, half-sputtered. "Um. No. No, that's insane. Even if I could, no one would pick me... to... go up on stage."

They were suddenly friendly, and the air between them was easy. Jade was on one side of the table, leaning over so her face was close to Quinn's, who was on the other. "They'd pick the best, and if you were the best they'd pick you."

"Imagine that. Me, up against a Tony-nominated, Grammy-winning artist, _and_ Rachel Berry... and being the best."

They were very close, and both were smiling. Jade was smiling _because _she was very close. Quinn was smiling because the idea was preposterous; as preposterous as the thought that maybe Jade was looking at her with the same fascination of a man but none of the objectification or judgment. She wasn't meat; but art.

Quinn took a deep breath as she pulled away. "What did you say you were doing here?"

"Coat."

"Ah. Well you found it. You should probably be going."

"What are you working on?"

She rounded the table, looking at Quinn's hardly legible script. "Emma wants to end the show with a monologue by Marilyn, as she's talking to Joe right before she overdoses. I'm working on a sort of thesis about her mindset in her final moments. I've read everything there is to read, I almost feel like I know her."

Jade smiled softly. She said, "Here, look at this." And she lifted the half-shirt she wore that was gray and black striped, tossing it down on the table and standing in her camisole.

"What are you doing-?" Quinn laughed.

"I worried this might lose me the part, if I had to be scantily clad or naked, but I got it when I was eighteen." She moved one strap down on her arm and turned, so black script was visible over the top of the fabric, in the hollow of her shoulder.

Quinn cautiously reached out, pulling the top hem of the camisole down a little to read the whole quote, which had little stars around it.

_All we demanded was our right to twinkle._

She was amazed, and grinned. "That's... you really do love her." She bit her lip, then turned and dropped her dress sleeves down, wiggling the top down past her bra, showing smooth, flawless white skin and lines of black ink riding the curves of her ribs.

_Imperfection is beauty, madness is genius and it's better to be absolutely ridiculous than absolutely boring._

"Wow."

"Yeah," Quinn breathed. "Let me show you a trick. Lay down on the table."

Jade did as she said, and folded her arms under her chin, rolling her shoulders around as Quinn grabbed her purse, removing lipstick and foundation and a few tissues. Using one, she started to put red lipstick on the skin of the tattoo, which felt thick and warm on Jade's back.

"What are you doing?"

"_The Body is meant to be seen, not all covered up_."

"Oh I definitely agree. Nudists rule."

The tiny giggle that came from Quinn as she applied the powder foundation to the base of red covering the tattoo made her stomach jump weirdly. The younger woman's hand pressed flat over Jade's spine, the fingertips drifting unnecessarily, and lingering there.

"There you go. No more tattoo."

She sat up and accepted a mirror. The tone didn't match, but it covered. "That's a cool trick."

"I know lots of tricks." Quinn froze, her mouth falling open at her slip up, and they were both laughing as she said, "I didn't mean-."

"I know what you meant. And I know what you didn't. I understand."

"Do you?" came the whispered response.

"Yes."

There was confusion there, in her hazel eyes. Something new and exciting. She tried hard to be one person, but there was always another wanting to come out and play. They were close again. Jade was sitting on the table, and Quinn was standing; nervously twisting away or leaning back in and breathing with endless amounts of control. There was no release of tension between them. Their lips came so close that they brushed together, but the split second after Quinn was blinking quickly and pulling away.

"It was nice meeting you, Miss Adams."

"Call me Jade."

But the walls were back up. "No," Quinn said.

Jade went home; forgetting completely about meeting Jesse and the others at the bar. He looked for her all night.


	3. Chapter 3

Part Three:

Hey, Hey, Hey. Hey, Hey Hey.

Chorus members were easily identifiable by their perfect posture and perfect posturing. Jade and Rachel stood next to each other on the bar, watching as the men and women of the chorus stretched in their yoga pants and appropriate shoes, murmuring among themselves, then straightened and put on beaming smiles when Jesse led the creative team in, clapping his hands and calling, "Alright, places for a chorus run-through of _The National Pastime_. I want both of our Marilyns front and center to observe. I also invited Hudson, Evans and Puckerman to try some scene work; I want them all reading with each girl, we'll get to that later. Just have a seat, gentleman."

Finn ran to kiss Rachel.

"You didn't tell me you were coming in today-?"

"I just got the call," he said, "sorry. Knock 'em dead."

He sat beside his pretty, young wife. Sam and Noah each pulled up a chair next to Jade, with the latter winking.

Sam said, "My Lady."

"Sir Evans." She nodded.

The ensemble ran through _The National Pastime_ with the dance instructor demonstrating Jesse's choreography. The track played with only Will's voice faintly singing the lead vocal, and when it was over, everybody applauded the excellent effort of the dancers.

Jesse was suddenly kneeling between the girls.

"What does everybody think?"

"Marvelous!" Rachel beamed. She had practice, she'd been in and out of ensembles for ten years.

Jade said, "It's was wonderful. You really are great, Jesse."

"Oh, now you think I'm great," he murmured.

She followed as he headed back toward the creative team's table, saying, "I've always thought you were great."

"I know that, Jade, we've made masterpieces together for more than ten years. I was being passive aggressive because you stood me up last night."

"I'm so sorry, it completely slipped my mind."

"The only reason I went out with those people was so that I could spend time with you."

"Yes. I know how you despise being social."

"I really, really do, especially when everybody fawns over me because I'm famous."

"No, that part you love."

"Alright, maybe."

"So... let me make it up to you tonight?"

One perfect eyebrow raised. "Just the two of us?"

"Sure."

"What's your angle?"

"I'm at whatever angle you want me to be at," she replied, doing her best Marilyn, but couldn't make it through without laughing.

"There it is. You know I must be the first man in history who wished a hot chick would stop having so much sex with him so they could just talk and cuddle."

"Alright. Just dinner, then. And my angle is... I'd like to talk to you about another audition for Marilyn."

"You know you've already got my vote."

"Not for me. For someone else. I met her last night and she is... wonderful."

"Another first. You're the first actress in the history of Broadway to push for someone else to get your part. Why would you ever want more competition?"

"If there's anybody I love more than me and you, it's Marilyn. And if anybody could do better than me, I welcome them. As long as they do her justice."

"Fair enough. Call you later with details?"

"Yes."

He kissed her on the cheek, then the mumblings of the others calmed when he moved away from her, ready to address them.

"That was great, people, thank you." He turned to the Marilyns. "Who's ready to give it a try?"

"Are you kidding? After seeing it once?" Jade snorted.

Rachel jumped to her feet. "I've got it."

"Alright then."

"Good luck, Honey."

"You've got this Rachel!" Schuester called.

"I know I do. Hit it!"

The music started again, but this time, with Rachel center stage and the male chorus around her, everything came to life. In Jesse's vision, she wore a red sundress and the men all had on baseball uniforms. Lighting was a complementary magenta.

"Fellas!"

"Yeah!"

"Fellas!"

"Is it?"

"Hey team!"

"Off the benches, it's Marilyn!"

Crowded around her, they snapped, and she bopped her hips. "I just got a date,"Rachel sang, theatrically and with a heavy Marilyn tone, "with baseball's Joltin' Joe!"

"That lucky so and so."

"So run me round the bases. Put me through my paces. And teach me all the things a slugger's lover... should know-! What's that there?"She peered under one hand.

"That's the pitcher's mound!

Rachel touched her lower curves and dipped, letting the eye naturally follow. "Have you ever seen a shape that is so perfectly round?"

"Batter up!"

"Play ball!" She shimmied, pushing her chest out.

"You'd better give it your all!"

"'Cause all men like to play at the national pastime! Who's that man?"

"That's the first base coach."

Two men on either side pumped their hips in toward her. "Have you noticed that he signals every time I approach?"

"Kill the ump!"

"Throw him out!"

"Because there isn't a doubt-."

"That all men like to play at-." She gave a breathy sigh as she sang, "The national pastime-!"

Crossing her legs, she bounced as the men lifted her on their arms. Her frame was so tiny, they could carry her in circles like a little doll.

"When I was just a little girl, I liked being dainty and purty! But now that I'm giving sports a whirl, I find I kinda like to get dirty!"

One man held her up and spun with her, while the others called, "Baby, what's that there?"

"That's the team bull-pen. And I like the odds I'm seeing, no girls, all _men_!"

Her squeak was a bit too careful and on pitch, Jade thought, remember the chilling break in pitch Quinn had after saying _undressed_.

"Hit the deck, look alive! Beware the lady's line drive!" They tossed her up in the air from one group to the other.

"Peanuts!" Rachel gasped, covering her mouth with a wicked grin. "Hot dogs!" Two of the players held their bats up from their hips, wiggling them. "Cracker jack! I don't care, I don't care if I ever get back!"

"When the season's over, the play won't end!"

"'Cause a baseball diamond is a girl's best friend..."

Everybody sang together, a solid wall of sound. "Yes, my style and my fashion will elevate the national past time-!"

She flung her hands in the air, dramatic, posed. Jesse and Jade locked eyes across the room; his rolled, hers visibly weakened as she sighed. The others sprang to their feet, eating it up and applauding wildly.

"Alright, everybody take five," Jesse called. "Or ten. Make it ten."

Rachel swaggered over to Jade, still beaming and it made Jade think she might be dead inside. "Well? What did you think?"

"You were wonderful," Finn said, and then dashed off with the crowd to use the facilities.

"I hope you boys were both impressed."

"Sure."

"Yeah, you were good."

"Walk with me, Jade?"

She frowned, but stood and walked. "Rachel?"

"Right. You think I don't like you. Well you're wrong. And I want you at your best when I beat you, so I'll just say it. When they cast DiMaggio, they'll ask him who his Marilyn is. It won't mean much, but another voice to divide the split couldn't hurt."

"The split?"

"You've got Jesse. I've got Will. Emma is undecided but she generally sides with Will, and that investor loved you in your rock and roll days. But the big voices in deciding who's cast will also want to see chemistry. I've got Finn. You need to rub some skin on skin, put your best assets forward and... well, wiggle something for at least one, or preferably both of those handsome gents over there. Otherwise you won't stand a chance, and that's just no fun for me."

"Are you suggesting I sleep with Sam or Noah?"

"Or Sam and Noah. Maybe at the same time, if you can handle it. Marilyn had plenty of lovers in her day."

"That's ridiculous and dishonest," Jade said frankly.

"Whatever. I'm only trying to help."

She walked away, swinging her hips, but inside Rachel's heart was pounding. It was the rush of show business, and the guilt of plotting, which she shoved down. Her passion for the spotlight would never be extinguished.

Jade returned to the boys, who were growling as they arm-wrestled on the backs of their chairs.

"Hey, Joe Rogan, Hulk Hogan, you both play guitar, right?"

"Yeah."

"Yes ma'am," Sam said. "I have mine here, in fact, I have a gig later."

"Well let's find a couple for me and you-," she nodded to Noah, "And grab yours, Sammy. We can jam."

"It's an honor-."

"Don't start that," she chuckled. "I'm just a person."

"And a rock God."

She raised an eyebrow.

"-Ess. Goddess. I'm sorry. Can we still?"

"Yes."

Finding a song all three knew wasn't hard. She found she and Sam had similar taste, and Noah knew a lot of big hits, at least. With two borrowed, acoustic guitars from the set, they gathered in the hall alcove, away from the gallery room. Jade was in the middle, and she had aggressive rhythm on the song, dragging her wrist up and down along the strings. Sam had a melody, and Noah mimicked the words they sang at a lower tone, switching to harmony for the chorus. A crowd naturally gathered, and phones were whipped out before they'd even begun.

Together they sang, "And here's to you! Mrs. Robinson, Jesus loves you more than you will know."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," the boys intoned, leaning in.

And with Jade, "God bless you please, Mrs. Robinson, Heaven holds a place for those who pray."

"Hey, hey, hey," the boys sang. "Hey, hey, hey."

They played together for a moment.

Sam sang, in his moderate pitch with a pop edge, "We'd like to know a little bit about you for our files. We'd like to help you learn... to help yourself."

Puck followed with a high, smooth, "Look around you, all you see are our sympathetic eyes."

Both of them, next, "Stroll around the grounds, until you feel at home." Then the chorus rolled around and with the skillful guitars, Jade added her scratchy tone.

"And here's to you, Mrs. Robinson! Jesus loves you more than you will know. God bless you please, Mrs. Robinson, Heaven holds a place for those who pray."

"Hide it in a hiding place where no one ever goes," Puck said. "Put it in your pantry with your cupcakes."

"It's a little secret, just the Robinson's affair." Sam did a skillful descent in notes the whole length of the neck of his guitar.

"Most of all," the two sang together, "You've got to hide it from the kids."

"Koo-koo-cachoo, Mrs. Robinson! Jesus loves you more than you will know. Whoa, whoa, whoa. God bless you please, Mrs. Robinson, Heaven holds a place for those who pray. Hey, hey, hey. Hey, hey, hey."

Music played, the three of them synchronized in perfect harmony. Jade and Puck went on.

"Sitting on a sofa, on a Sunday afternoon. Going to the candidate's debate."

Jade saw Rachel watching, sipping from her water bottle, and blew her a kiss. Finn was next to her, and impressed.

Jade sang with Sam, "Laugh about it, shout about it, when you've got to choose. Anyway you look at this, you lose."

The tempo sped back up and they were all playing feverishly, while they sang, with Jade in the lead, "Where have you gone, Joe DiMaggio? Our nation turns its lonely eyes to you."

"Woo, woo, woo," the boys crooned.

"What's that you say, Mrs. Robinson? Joltin' Joe has left and gone away. Hey, hey, hey. Hey, hey, hey."

Wild applause came from them, and a few of the more shy ensemble members finally worked up the nerve to ask Jade for her autograph. She hugged Sam, and he murmured into her ear, "Thank you so much. This is a dream come true."

"We'll have to do it again sometime, just the guitars, no pesky clothes."

He blushed and giggled, and it made her smile.

She scribbled autographs, then Noah dragged her aside. "I know what you're doing here."

"Oh? Aren't we just jamming?"

"You're trying to win us both over, so we like each other, we can perform together, odds slip into your favor. Well, Sam might be that easy, but uh-." He sniffed, very macho. "-I'm not. If you really want us to work well together, the only way is practice."

"And all this time, I took you for such a professional," she accused teasingly, but she'd grown nervous with the turn the conversation had taken.

"That's the strategy. All business until I get the part, then work privately with a few chorus girls. Or maybe the star, if she's someone like Jade Adams."

"Here's hoping."

"Anyway, think about it." He slid the guitar strap off his shoulder. "Practice makes perfect. And sex made Marilyn."

"Break's over!" Will called, herding stray ensemble members back into the room. "Let's read."

Jade caught Jesse as he headed in. "Hey, Mr. Director, can I..." she bit her lip, trying to be pleading, "can I please borrow your key to the theater you're looking at for _Marilyn_?"

"Why?"

"I just want to check it out. Maybe stand on the stage and get myself psyched."

"Alright. Just don't forget our dinner plans."

"I'll be out in plenty of time."

"Okay, I want you reading with Finn first," he said, "And be amazing, it might shake Little Miss Perfect if you're believable and sexy with her husband."

"You're so devious."

He only smiled in response, passing her the key.

Jade drifted to Noah, and stood on her toes to whisper in his ear, "Meet me at this address," she scribbled on a scrap of paper, "at seven tonight. Don't tell anyone."

Pressing her body a little closer to his than was necessary, she slipped the paper into the front pocket of his jeans. She felt dirty, even from such a tiny, innocuous gesture.

The ensemble began to crowd back inside the wooden-floored, studio room, eager to catch a reading of a first-draft script for the show. Jade whispered to herself, "Don't be a coward, don't be a coward, don't be a coward. You're _not _going to sleep with him. You're just going to show him what a Marilyn you are."


End file.
